


The Scarf

by The Sign of Tea (NoPlastic)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Daydreaming, F/M, Gen, Light BDSM, Sexual Fantasy, Sherlock Rare Pair Holiday Bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 06:31:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17157005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoPlastic/pseuds/The%20Sign%20of%20Tea
Summary: Molly finds a scarf and wonders what to do with it.For the Holiday Bingo by sherlockrarepairs on tumblr. Prompt: scarf.





	The Scarf

“No, Molly. Don’t struggle.”

Molly shivered as she tried to relax into the scene. Her fists clenched on the bedpost they’d been tied to with a scarf. The soft fabric of the scarf was no real obstacle, but she acted like she couldn’t free herself from it, desperately fighting against the restraint while that voice dripped like honey into her ears.

“I said. Don’t. Struggle.”

The whip hissed through the air, about to inflict the punishment she craved, she could feel the pain already, almost. But not quite. Because –

– it was a daydream.

A heavy sigh of frustration escaped her as she forced herself to face reality again under the cold fluorescent light of the morgue.

So much paperwork needed to be done, and there weren’t even any fresh bodies to cut open. The last one had been fascinating, a serial killer’s victim. He’d looked like he was sleeping. Not a single wound, no signs of poison, no internal bleeding, nor anything that could have killed him. It had taken the whole morning and all of her skill and experience to find the cause of his death. On mornings like that she loved her job. Now, when all that was left to do were some boring chemical tests and paperwork, she hated it.

The scarf was still in her hands because she didn’t quite know where to put it after she’d picked it up from the floor. She wondered if it could be used to strangle someone. Probably it could; she’d seen enough victims of strangling to know what worked and what didn’t. On the other hand, this particular scarf was really exceptionally soft. She thought about how ridiculous it would be if a serial killer tried to strangle someone and failed because he’d chosen this scarf and it was too soft. The thought made her smile, as she imagined the victim whimpering and tearing at the fabric with both hands and then going – _oooh, cashmere._

“What do you think of this, Bert?” she asked the corpse in the other corner of the room whose cause of death happened to be asphyxiation. “This scarf could have saved your life. And it’s probably also really nice and warm in the winter.”

Her mind immediately supplied another daydream in which she saw herself wearing the scarf proudly around her neck. Dressed in a fur coat and expensive leather boots, she was strolling through a shopping center towards the luxury goods. She wasn’t even planning to buy anything, only wanted to show that she _could,_ she could buy the entire shopping center if she wanted, but of course she had more important things to do. Meeting Hollywood stars in exclusive party locations, organizing charity events, attending the christening of her new yacht…  
She pressed the scarf to her face and inhaled deeply. It smelled like a dream, like being admired and respected and lo-

“Hey, Molly!”

“Oh, hi, Sherlock!”

It wasn’t before she had put on her friendliest and most intelligent-looking smile that she realized she was still pressing his scarf against her chin and had probably drooled on it.

“How long have you been standing there?” she asked shyly.

“Long enough,” he replied with that enigmatic smile, the closest thing to affection that he could manage.

“I’m sorry, I was just checking it for, um, chemicals.”

“Chemicals, of course. There’s no other way to find out if my scarf has been contaminated with something hazardous than burying your own face in it and inhaling –“

“It smells like you!” The words were out before Molly could stop herself. She felt her cheeks reddening even more than they already had, probably her face looked like a glowing tomato by now.

Sherlock’s eyes narrowed. He stared at her with that piercing look as if she’d suddenly become interesting. He seemed confused for a moment, like he was trying to deduce her but ended up seeing nothing but question marks above her head.

“So, can I have it back now?”

“Sorry. Of course,” she stuttered, and handed him the scarf. He let it disappear in his coat pocket, and his enigmatic smile came back.

“Do you know what smells even more like me than my scarf?”

Her eyes widened.

“I – I have no idea what you –“

“Me,” he said, and grabbed her suddenly and pulled her into a tight embrace. She wasn’t entirely sure, but she thought she could feel him chuckling deep in his chest.


End file.
